Philip and the Angel (9781452416144)

by Paulits, John

  “Why do you go to the doctor’s so much?”

  Angel made a funny twist of her head. “Oh, I have to do what they tell me. Sometimes I get sick. But I’ll think about your problem. It’s a tough one, but it’ll give me something to do.”

  Angel’s mother called again, and Angel slid slowly off the sofa.

  “Let me know if you make any progress with the dog story.”

  Philip shook his head. “It won’t work.”

  Angel walked Philip to the door. “Let me know anyway. Bye.”

  “Bye.” The door closed behind Philip. He looked across the street and saw Emery, Hansel scurrying here and there at his side. The dog stopped to smell something and as Emery watched the dog, Philip watched them. Hansel trotted ahead, and Emery followed him to his house, opened the door, and they stepped inside.

  Philip walked sadly toward his own house. Emery would be over for him in a few minutes. Maybe they could do something at the park that would cheer him up. He hoped so. He really needed cheering up.

  Chapter Seven

  Philip saw Angel at her living room window each day when he returned from school, and since Emery had to walk his dog first thing after school, Philip took time to talk to her. Every day she asked him whether he’d managed to raise the topic of the stray dog to his parents. Philip could only shake his head sadly and say no. He could still see the dog, a giant piece of meat in his mouth, tearing around the living room. He could still hear his mother screaming for him to chase the dog out the open front door. No. Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.

  On the following Monday Angel made her mysterious trip to the hospital so Philip decided to join Emery on his dog-walk.

  “How come you keep standing outside that house when you go home? You did it all last week.” Emery clicked the leash onto Hansel’s collar. Philip opened the front door for them, and they went out onto the pathway.

  Philip hadn’t yet mentioned Angel to Emery. He’d told Emery it was his own idea to invite the stray dog home.

  “Doesn’t that girl live there? The one who never goes to school?”

  “That’s her. She looks out the window a lot and always says hello to me.”

  “You always go up to the window, though. I wouldn’t stop to talk to a girl. I’d wave if I had to and keep going.”

  “You don’t have to pass her house. I do. Besides, she talks to me.”

  “What does she say?”

  Philip looked at Emery. “Are you writing a book or something? I thought you went home to get Hansel for his walk. Why are you watching me?”

  “I just see you when I take Hansel out. You’re there every day. How come you didn’t go see her today?”

  Philip gave a disgruntled sigh. “She’s not there. Okay?”

  “How do you know she’s not there? You came right to my house. You didn’t even go by there.”

  “Why are you asking so many questions? You should get a job on the evening news. You’d be great.”

  “I just want to know.”

  “She not there on Mondays because she’s sick, okay?

  “She’s only sick on Mondays?”

  “No, not only on Mondays,” Philip snapped. “She’s sick every day, but she goes to the hospital on Mondays.”

  “Every Monday?”

  “Yes, every Monday.”

  “Why?”

  Philip stopped walking and glared at his friend. “Because they make her.”

  “Okay, okay.” The boys walked a few steps in silence. “Will she be back tomorrow?”

  “Yes, she’ll probably be back tomorrow. Sheesh. Why don’t you come with me and say hello?”

  Emery shook his head. “Not if I don’t have to. Nope. No thanks.” They walked a few more steps. “You can tell her I said hi.”

  “I’m not telling her anything! Oop, there he goes.”

  The dog stopped and did what he had to do. Emery bent over with his little plastic bag and did what he had to do. Philip turned away until Emery finished.

  “Having a dog isn’t always great,” said Emery as he folded up the bag and dropped it into a brown paper bag he took from his pocket. “Maybe you should get a cat. Then you wouldn’t have to do this. Look. There goes one now.”

  Philip turned. A lone black cat pranced proudly across the street. As the two boys stood and watched, the cat disappeared into the clutter behind the supermarket. There were metal trash cans, a big dumpster full of junk, and a fenced-in spot full of cardboard ready to be picked up for recycling.

  “Where’d it go?” Philip said.

  “I don’t know. Let’s go see.”

  The two boys crossed the street and poked around through the clutter.

  “You better pick Hansel up,” Philip suggested. “He might not like cats.”

  Emery complied.

  Philip searched among the garbage cans, thinking the cat might be looking for something to eat.

  “I think it went over here,” said Emery. “Yeah, here it is.”

  Philip pointed to a black tail sticking out from between some pieces of cardboard. Philip gently pulled the giant pieces of cardboard apart and looked down.

  “Ugh,” he said. He let the cardboard fall back together. “I think it killed a mouse or something. There’s a lot of fur down there.”

  “Let me see. Here.” Emery handed Hansel to Philip.

  Emery eased the cardboard apart. He looked closely. “Oh, wow!”

  “Oh, wow, what?”

  “It’s not a mouse. She has kittens down there.”

  “Kittens?”

  “Yeah, look.”

  They exchanged Hansel again, and Philip took a look. The skinny cat lay on its side, two tiny kittens, one black, one gray, attached to her stomach.

  “She’s feeding two of them,” said Philip is a hushed voice.

  “Let me see,” said Emery.

  “Hold onto Hansel,” Philip warned, and he moved the cardboard aside so he and Emery could squat down near the cat and watch.

  “Only two are feeding,” said Emery. “I don’t think the other two . . .”

  The mother cat noticed the two boys and the dog and showed all of her teeth through a tiny growl.

  “Shhh,” said Philip, both to the cat and to Emery. He looked closely. Emery was right. Two of the little kittens, both striped, lay absolutely still. “She must have gone out looking for her own dinner.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Shhh. You whisper, too. Don’t make her growl again.”

  “Then let’s go before she really gets angry. I have to take Hansel home. He’s starting to wiggle ’cause of the cats.”

  Emery and Philip stood up. Philip put the cardboard back in place, and the two boys walked away.

  “You know,” said Philip, “if we leave them there, the people who come to pick up the cardboard aren’t going to know about them.”

  Emery pulled Hansel away from a bush he wanted to smell.

  “You take Hansel home, and I’ll meet you later.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Never mind. I’ll see you later.” Philip ran down the street. He knew he couldn’t leave those two tiny kittens to be recycled along with the cardboard. He’d have to do something, but he didn’t know what. Angel would know what to do, and if she wasn’t home from the hospital yet, he’d wait for her. This was an emergency!

  Chapter Eight

  When Philip saw the car in the driveway, he knew Angel was home from the hospital so he ran. He reached her front door, took some breaths, and knocked. Angel’s mother opened the door.

  “Hi, can I talk to Angel?”

  “Is that Philip, Mom?”

  Angel’s mother invited him in, and he walked into the living room. Angel lay on the sofa in her pajamas with a thin yellow blanket over her.

  “Don’t talk too long, honey,” her mother said. “You know Dr. Keating said you should rest.”

  “I am resting. Look at me.”

  “Just not too
long, please.” Angel’s mother left.

  “Angel, I found a cat family.” Philip told his story. “What should I do with them? If I leave them there, they’ll all get crunched when the recycle truck comes.”

  Angel had a serious look on her face. She shifted uncomfortably. “You’re right. We can’t leave them there.”

  Philip waited while Angel pondered. He could hear her mother buzzing around in the kitchen. He recalled looking down over the cardboard to see the two little kittens drinking milk. They were so small. No bigger than his fist. He thought of the two kittens who weren’t moving. Angel’s voice woke him up.

  “You know the little shed behind my house?”

  “I know it.”

  “You can bring the family there. There’s even a hole in the back wall where the mother can get in and out. You’ll need a box to carry the kittens.”

  “What about the mother? She growled at us when we got close.”

  “She wants food. Go and buy one can of cat food. If you look in the shed, you should find the old hamster cage I never got to use. It’s big enough. Put the food inside the cage, and when the mother goes in to get the food, close the door. The kittens you can pick up and put in a cardboard box.”

  “You should see how small they are. Their eyes aren’t even open.”

  “Helpless,” Angel murmured.

  “Okay. How much is cat food?” Philip reached into his pocket and took out three quarters.

  “That’s enough,” said Angel. “And get a paper plate to put the food on.”

  Philip started for the door. He stopped and turned to Angel. “What about the two not-moving ones?”

  “After you take care of the mother and kittens you can bury those two. They should be buried.”

  “Buried? In the ground?”

  “No, in a chocolate pie, silly. You and your friend can do it. Come back and let me know how you did. Oh, wait. Come here.” Philip walked closer. “Don’t let my mom or dad see you use the shed. Go through the yards from the other block to get to the shed.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know.”

  Philip ran up the street to Emery’s house and got his friend.

  “Listen,” Philip said. “You gotta help me.” He explained what they had to do.

  “Okay, let’s go get the food,” said Emery. “Wait.” He went back inside his house and returned with a paper plate. “Two babies, you know. We eat off these a lot.”

  “Okay, put it in your pocket. Let’s go get the cage.”

  Philip and Emery knelt behind some bushes staring at the shed in Angel’s backyard.

  “How come that girl is telling you to do all this?” Emery whispered.

  “She’s sick all the time, she says, and all she can do is look out the window. This must be fun for her, I guess. She knows who you are. She’s pretty smart.”

  Emery looked at the back of Angel’s house. “Is she watching us now? This is pretty spooky.”

  Philip looked at Angel’s windows.

  “No, I don’t see her. She was lying on the sofa before. Stop talking and let’s get the cage.”

  The two boys crept to the shed, opened the door, and went inside.

  “A lot of junk,” Emery whispered. “There. That looks like a cage.”

  Philip looked where Emery pointed. “Grab it and let’s get out of here.” Emery picked up the cage and they left.

  When they were back on the sidewalk heading toward the supermarket, Emery said, “That was easy. Maybe me and you should be spies or something.”

  Philip gave Emery a look. “Yeah, we’ll be spies tomorrow. Come on. Let’s run.”

  “Not so fast,” Emery called. “I’m carrying the cage.”

  When they reached the supermarket, they read the overhead signs and found “Pet Supplies.” Colorful cans of cat food lines the shelves.

  “What kind shall we get?” Emery said.

  “How about the blue one?”

  Emery picked up the can and read it. “‘Beef’ it says. Beef comes from cows.”

  “So what? Let’s go.”

  “Wait a minute. Cats don’t eat cows. How could a cat eat a cow? The cow could fall over and squish it. The cat won’t like this.”

  “Then get the red on. Come on.”

  Emery grabbed the red one. “‘Chicken,’” Emery read.

  “Chicken’s good. Let’s go.”

  “Wait a minute. Whoever saw a cat eat a chicken? Chickens are bigger than cats. They can fly, can’t they, and peck? And where would a cat who lives in a city get a chicken? I’ll bet the mother cat doesn’t even know what a chicken looks like. She never heard of chicken. I don’t think she’ll eat chicken.”

  “Then get the green one. Get something.”

  Emery put the red can back and stood on top of the cage to reach a green can of cat food. “‘Turkey.’” He looked at Philip.

  “Don’t tell me,” said Philip. “Cats don’t eat turkeys.”

  “A turkey is even bigger than a chicken. A cat could never eat a turkey.”

  “How about on Thanksgiving?” Philip asked.

  “I never thought of that,” said Emery. “But it’s only May, not even close to Thanksgiving.”

  Philip grabbed the can from Emery and put it back.

  “Fish. Here’s fish,” said Philip. “Cats eat fish, right?”

  “We don’t have any rivers near us. How would the mother know about fish? Look around. They must have mouse-flavored cat food.”

  The two boys scoured the cat food shelves for mouse-flavored cat food but couldn’t find any.

  “They must be out of it,” said Emery. “Mouse’s gotta be the most popular flavor. Do you see any bird-flavored cat food?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Let’s get the fish then.”

  Philip grabbed the fish-flavored cat food, and together he and Emery went to pay. Outside, Philip said, “We have everything we need. Ready?”

  “Rescue mission to save cats ready.”

  “Then let’s go,” said Philip.

  Chapter Nine

  The mother cat pulled her lips back and showed her teeth.

  “Look out!” Emery cried. Philip jumped and Emery scurried behind Philip.

  “Just put some food on the plate and let her smell it,” Emery advised. “Boy, I wish it was mouse flavored. She’d eat it in a hurry.”

  Philip scooped some of the wet, squishy food onto the paper plate with the back end of an old, cracked plastic fork he’d found in the trash behind the supermarket. He pushed the paper plate toward the cat. He and Emery watched the mother cat sniff at it and give it a lick.

  “I think she likes it,” said Emery.

  Just as they’d planned, Philip moved the paper plate back a little. The mother cat got to her feet and stepped toward the food. She sniffed and licked it again.

  “Go on,” whispered Emery. “Back further.”

  “Shhhh.” Philip wanted to tell Emery if he knew so much about how to do it, why didn’t he do it himself, but he didn’t want to start an argument in front of the mother cat, who slowly followed the paper plate of food nearer and nearer to the cage. The door of the cage opened flat onto the ground, and Philip slid the paper plate into the cage.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered to Emery.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Emery whispered back.

  “Oh, great! Just hold it,” Philip ordered. “Don’t move.”

  The cat stuck its head into the cage and sniffed the food again. It put one foot into the cage and started lapping up the food. Slowly, Philip reached behind the cat and pushed it into the cage.

  “Get the door,” Emery ordered.

  Both Emery and Philip reached for the door. The startled cat meowed once. Emery dropped the door. Philip pushed the cat’s head back inside the cage. Emery grabbed the door and lifted it. Philip hooked it shut.

  “Meooww,” the cat said. It looked at the two boys and returned its attention to the plate of food.

&
nbsp; “Wow!” said Emery. “That was tense.”

  “Do you still have to go to the bathroom?” Philip asked impatiently.

  Emery waited a moment before saying, “No. It went away. I guess I was nervous.”

  “Get a small box. There’s a million of them. We’ll put the babies inside.” Philip remembered what Angel had said. “Get two boxes.”

  Emery scurried around the hodge-podge of cardboard and junk and came back with two small boxes.

  “Hold it closer,” said Philip. He lifted the gray kitten carefully and put it inside the box. Then he lifted the black kitten and did the same. “Give me the other box.” He put the box alongside the two striped kittens and, using a flat piece of cardboard, pushed them into the box.

  “What are you going to do with them?” Emery asked.

  “We are going to bury them.”

  “In the ground.” Emery sounded amazed.

  “No, in a chocolate pie. You carry these two boxes and I’ll get the cage.”

  “Chocolate pie,” Emery grumbled under his breath.

  The two boys went a block out of their way so they wouldn’t meet anyone they knew. Philip didn’t want his parents asking him why he was carrying around a caged cat. When they reached the house behind Angel’s, Philip led Emery past the house and into the backyard, hoping the owner was out or watching television. He and Emery ducked into the bushes behind Angel’s house.

  “Leave it,” whispered Philip, pointing to the box with the two dead kittens.

  Emery put the box down and crept along behind Philip to the edge of the bushes.

  “Wait,” said Philip. “Her again.” He pointed and waited until Mrs. Beebe stepped back inside her kitchen door. “Okay. Come on.”

  Philip led the way to the shed and opened the door. The two boys ducked inside, and Emery pushed the door shut. An old faded blue blanket lay stretched out on the floor.

  “Where’d that come from?” Emery wondered.

  “I’ll bet Angel did it,” said Philip. He lifted the two wiggling kittens from the cardboard box and placed them on the warm blanket. “Open the cage.”

  “I hope the mother cat’s not mad at us,” said Emery.